45
Top Review
The Lightness of Heaviness
A moment when we are only for ourselves. Alone but completely. A moment in the light. Wrapped in a circle of music. A music that moves my body, and me. The movement dives into the light, casts a shadow into the darkness around it, and dances back out of it. A music that creates silence all around. Just me and the music. For this moment. Completely and utterly. Theorema.
Theorema celebrates this moment, this being in the now, this being-with-oneself. Without expectation and without compromise. Self-sufficient and autopoietic. Not hard, but close. Not cold, but warm. Not glaringly bright, but golden and dimly lit. A great perfume that stands entirely on its own but does not aim for a grand effect. A perfume that did not fall into my lap from the shelf 15 years ago, but took its time to be understood and felt. Other mainstream fragrances from that time were louder, more elegant, catchier, ahead of their time, or simply sold better. Wish, Envy, Rush, J’Adore, Allure, Déclaration, to name just a few. Theorema did not stand out in any particular way next to them, yet this perfume has endured the test of time until today. Although it has long since officially disappeared from the market, Theorema is still appreciated by a large fanbase, which has even dedicated a Facebook page to it: “Bring back Theorema”. Theorema was unique, and now it is cult.
Fundamentally an oriental, Theorema somehow stands out from the crowd. Many attributes that classify a perfume as oriental can indeed be found in Theorema: spices, various flowers, balsamic notes, woods, a certain sweetness and heaviness. And yet, Theorema is simply different. Theorema is contradictory, and in this very contradiction lies its charm and its golden shimmering beauty. Much orange fruit, citrus, restrained sweetness, and soft woodiness in the top note. Gentle, playful, dancing. And in contrast, heavy spices. Above all, pepper, cinnamon, cardamom, and nutmeg. Grounding, anchoring, expansive. Light and heavy elements come together like puzzle pieces, forming a flawlessly soft unity that extends into the heart note. A playfully light and warmly spicy heaviness underlies and permeates the entire fragrance, like gold veins in rock. This gold blooms in the heart note into such a radiant shimmer that only Hedione comes to mind as an explanation. Hedione is a miraculous substance. Not only does it underpin the blooming of the fragrance with a certain transparency, but it also primarily brings the flowers of the heart note into the light. In a prolonged moment of light. Like a sunbeam falling on a blossom, wrapping it warmly and gently in a radiant shimmer. This is beautiful and constitutes a large part of the wonderfully effortless femininity that Theorema carries and gives: “For the woman who defies definition.” And even here, the individual floral notes are so intertwined that perhaps only the garden carnation stands out a bit more distinctly than the other flowers. Just as the individual notes are woven into one another, the fragrance phases flow into each other, and the shimmer of the heart note transitions into the glow of the base. A woody warm, softly spicy, and blooming fragrance glow. Heaviness and weightlessness. A moment in the light. My moment and a body that moves briefly towards me. Dancing, it lingers a second too long on my skin and breathes in soft heaviness. We dance together.
For me, Theorema is Christine Nagel's masterpiece. Both in craftsmanship and in its classification within her overall work, I believe Theorema holds a similarly significant position as L'Eau d'Hiver in Jean Claude Ellena's oeuvre. Both fragrances represent a kind of artisanal mastery for me, and they are comparable in that they work with contradiction. The spicy heaviness and radiant lightness in Christine Nagel's Theorema and the olfactory dichotomy of “cold and warm” in Jean Claude Ellena's Eau Chaude. Both Theorema and L'Eau d'Hiver play with the concept of “Oriental” and interpret it in their own unique way. While Theorema may be a child of its time, effortlessly finding its way into the present, L'Eau d'Hiver sui generis eludes such classification. Common to both, in my estimation, is the very pronounced use of Hedione, which on one hand gives L'Eau d'Hiver an almost unreal transparency and on the other hand lends Theorema its shimmering radiance.
A shimmering radiance, a golden light that is also beautifully reflected in the almost Asian-looking packaging and in the shine of the liquid itself. Together with the rather restrained-purist yet high-quality and individually designed bottle, the overall picture of Theorema forms a unique unity for me. And despite all its uniqueness and initial awkwardness, Theorema is nonetheless a love for life. Once captured, I find myself time and again standing in the light, surrounded by a circle of music, and dancing for myself, dancing with the music.
A radiance. A moment in the light.
Bring back Theorema!
Theorema celebrates this moment, this being in the now, this being-with-oneself. Without expectation and without compromise. Self-sufficient and autopoietic. Not hard, but close. Not cold, but warm. Not glaringly bright, but golden and dimly lit. A great perfume that stands entirely on its own but does not aim for a grand effect. A perfume that did not fall into my lap from the shelf 15 years ago, but took its time to be understood and felt. Other mainstream fragrances from that time were louder, more elegant, catchier, ahead of their time, or simply sold better. Wish, Envy, Rush, J’Adore, Allure, Déclaration, to name just a few. Theorema did not stand out in any particular way next to them, yet this perfume has endured the test of time until today. Although it has long since officially disappeared from the market, Theorema is still appreciated by a large fanbase, which has even dedicated a Facebook page to it: “Bring back Theorema”. Theorema was unique, and now it is cult.
Fundamentally an oriental, Theorema somehow stands out from the crowd. Many attributes that classify a perfume as oriental can indeed be found in Theorema: spices, various flowers, balsamic notes, woods, a certain sweetness and heaviness. And yet, Theorema is simply different. Theorema is contradictory, and in this very contradiction lies its charm and its golden shimmering beauty. Much orange fruit, citrus, restrained sweetness, and soft woodiness in the top note. Gentle, playful, dancing. And in contrast, heavy spices. Above all, pepper, cinnamon, cardamom, and nutmeg. Grounding, anchoring, expansive. Light and heavy elements come together like puzzle pieces, forming a flawlessly soft unity that extends into the heart note. A playfully light and warmly spicy heaviness underlies and permeates the entire fragrance, like gold veins in rock. This gold blooms in the heart note into such a radiant shimmer that only Hedione comes to mind as an explanation. Hedione is a miraculous substance. Not only does it underpin the blooming of the fragrance with a certain transparency, but it also primarily brings the flowers of the heart note into the light. In a prolonged moment of light. Like a sunbeam falling on a blossom, wrapping it warmly and gently in a radiant shimmer. This is beautiful and constitutes a large part of the wonderfully effortless femininity that Theorema carries and gives: “For the woman who defies definition.” And even here, the individual floral notes are so intertwined that perhaps only the garden carnation stands out a bit more distinctly than the other flowers. Just as the individual notes are woven into one another, the fragrance phases flow into each other, and the shimmer of the heart note transitions into the glow of the base. A woody warm, softly spicy, and blooming fragrance glow. Heaviness and weightlessness. A moment in the light. My moment and a body that moves briefly towards me. Dancing, it lingers a second too long on my skin and breathes in soft heaviness. We dance together.
For me, Theorema is Christine Nagel's masterpiece. Both in craftsmanship and in its classification within her overall work, I believe Theorema holds a similarly significant position as L'Eau d'Hiver in Jean Claude Ellena's oeuvre. Both fragrances represent a kind of artisanal mastery for me, and they are comparable in that they work with contradiction. The spicy heaviness and radiant lightness in Christine Nagel's Theorema and the olfactory dichotomy of “cold and warm” in Jean Claude Ellena's Eau Chaude. Both Theorema and L'Eau d'Hiver play with the concept of “Oriental” and interpret it in their own unique way. While Theorema may be a child of its time, effortlessly finding its way into the present, L'Eau d'Hiver sui generis eludes such classification. Common to both, in my estimation, is the very pronounced use of Hedione, which on one hand gives L'Eau d'Hiver an almost unreal transparency and on the other hand lends Theorema its shimmering radiance.
A shimmering radiance, a golden light that is also beautifully reflected in the almost Asian-looking packaging and in the shine of the liquid itself. Together with the rather restrained-purist yet high-quality and individually designed bottle, the overall picture of Theorema forms a unique unity for me. And despite all its uniqueness and initial awkwardness, Theorema is nonetheless a love for life. Once captured, I find myself time and again standing in the light, surrounded by a circle of music, and dancing for myself, dancing with the music.
A radiance. A moment in the light.
Bring back Theorema!
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